


a long way back to the light

by dontcallmejordy



Category: X-Factor (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, look it all works out eventually please just trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontcallmejordy/pseuds/dontcallmejordy
Summary: Good days are ones where he's too busy to think about it, but today's one of the bad days.--Ric and Star learn how to be there for each other.





	a long way back to the light

**Author's Note:**

> All I want in the world is fic that shows that Star cares just as much about being a good partner to Ric as Ric does about being there for Star. So I wrote it. 
> 
> Title is from "Recovery" by Frank Turner which is, in my humble opinion, the most pre-Star-showing-up-in-X-Factor Ric song possible.

In the arena, and later with the Cadre Alliance, Star learned to collect beautiful memories. Possessions were forbidden, they weighed one down, created attachment to place rather than survival. But memories were acceptable. Laying in his cell, waiting for his body to repair itself, Star could retreat within and pull out memories one by one, holding each one for a moment, savoring the feeling of it before releasing it and moving on to the next one. It is a ritual.

Later, on Earth, beautiful memories become clearer, more frequent. Most of them involve Julio. Star learns to be more selective with the memories that he chooses, picks favorites to hold.

Since his return, the memory of his first night back with Julio has become a favorite.

 

* * *

 

They laid on top of the covers, and then they were kissing, desperate and exhausted. Star’s entire world narrowed to a collection of sensations: the feeling of him pulling gently at Julio’s hair and of Julio’s hands rubbing up and down his back, sliding his shirt up to place warm hands on Star’s cool skin.

They separated and Julio grinned at him, eyes already drifting shut. Minutes later they were asleep, forehead to forehead, clothes still on, Star’s swords forgotten at the foot of the bed. They slept in a tangle, just as they had so many nights in Mexico, Julio’s arm draped over Star, twisted in the fabric of his coat, Star’s arm trapped under Julio’s head. For the first time since he could remember, Star slept through the night.

He woke just as light began to bleed into the room, and made no move to get up, just rolled over slightly so he could survey his surroundings better. Julio nosed his way into the space created by Star, his face pressing into Star’s side, arm wrapping tighter around Star’s stomach, never waking up. Star had forgotten about this. How easy it was to be close to somebody else.

Even with his mouth slack, a thin line of drool absorbing into his shirt and yesterday’s bloodstained shirt still on, Julio was the most beautiful thing Star had ever seen. His hair was longer than the last time he’d seen him, and he looked tired, deep bags underneath his eyes. Their life had never been an easy one, Cable had made sure of that from the beginning, but Julio looked worn down in a way Star was unaccustomed to. Perhaps it was the difference, Star knew that people without healing factors aged more quickly and they had spent a not-insignificant time apart. He wanted to reach down and smooth out the line developing between his brows, to kiss him until he could think of nothing else. Instead, he settled on extracting his arm from under Julio. Julio opened his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, voice thick with sleep, smiling in that same, slightly nervous way that he had smiled at him last night.

“Hey,” echoed Star, and leaned in for a kiss. Everything was as it should be.

 

* * *

 

The next months passed in a blur, first in Genosha then dealing with Rahne. By the time Star had time to take stock of his surroundings, he’d been working with X-Factor for months. This, too, was a new experience. Things had been overwhelming; there was suddenly so much to see and do, an entire world available to him that he hadn’t even bothered to previously consider. Julio was his constant companion in everything from late night movie marathons to weekend brunch in Chelsea.

Everything wasn’t the same as it had been when they were 19. He and Julio could be in love now. Really, truly in love and not just the kind with stolen kisses in dark hallways and furtive promises whispered in dark motel rooms.

In so many ways it felt like they fit together in exactly the same way that they always had, an effortless pair, constantly intertwined. And yet Star found himself aching with constant reminders of the time they had spent apart. Half-formed arguments sprouted on his tongue and then died, an entire web of relationships that Star had been absent from for so long, a history of baggage that neither of them were prepared to divulge fully. Time apart had left each of them with scars, Star knew. Changed the way that they fit together, created corners where before there had been only rounded edges.

Most of the time it was so natural that Star could easily forget about the ways in which they’d changed, look only at the beauty of finally getting the life together that Star hadn’t even known he could dream about when he was 19 and didn’t understand what it meant to form a connection not based on desperation and mutual manipulation. Things weren’t perfect but they were  _good_  in a way that Star hadn’t felt since it was just him and Julio and all the Richters they could fight in Mexico.

Star had seen the sadness in Julio’s expression in the moments when he thought Star wasn’t looking, had been awakened to Julio shivering and sweating from night terrors, had watched him drink himself to sleep after difficult missions, but Star hadn’t concerned himself with it. Julio was broken just as Star was broken, in the formless, nameless way that it seemed like every one of them was, in some way or another. As far as Star was concerned, such things were part and parcel with the life they led, even if his life was somehow more beautiful than Star had ever dared to hope growing up in the arena.

And Julio was trying, even Star could see it. He let Star drag him anywhere he wanted to go on his days off, showed him every movie they’d never had the chance to see as a part of X-Force, and spent hours sitting up with Star discussing everything from modern slang to the state of reality television. He held Star’s hand in public and went with him to buy groceries together for the week, even entertained the notion of getting a cat. On the very best of days he would dare to speculate about what they might do after they left X-Factor.

Star wanted to let his guard down, was genuinely trying to believe that everything was going to resolve itself in time. He could finally have the life he’d never even known he could hope for as a terrified 19-year-old with no emotional range and a terrifying crush on his best friend.

 

* * *

 

The first morning, Star thought nothing of it. He got up before Julio nearly every morning to begin training. When he came back to their bedroom some time a little after noon to change, Julio was still a formless lump under the sheets, unmoving. Star walked up and poked Julio gently in the back. The lump shifted a bit.

“Hey, Star.”

“It’s noon,” said Star.

“Mm,” Julio made a small noise of affirmation but otherwise didn’t move. He was facing away from where Star near in the doorway, his back an impenetrable wall. Star wasn’t sure what to do, how to articulate how confusing he found this interruption in routine.

Usually by this time Julio was up and about, dressed and either making breakfast in the kitchen or downstairs at the computer terminal working on whatever ongoing case X-Factor was currently handling. Star knew that Julio wasn’t the biggest fan of strict schedules but he generally had at least enough professional courtesy to Jamie to make sure that his work was getting done on the day to day.

“Look Star I’m just--” the unfinished end of his sentence hung in the air. Star heard the slight rustling of the blanket while Julio adjusted his position. “I’ll be down in a bit,” he sighed after a moment.

Star stood in the doorway for a long time, clenching and unclenching his hands, trying to understand. Finally, he turned, went downstairs and put himself to work making eggs. Whenever he felt emotions buzzing up inside of him it was always easier to apply himself to a task, to let the simple minutia of instructions rule his daily life as it had for so long than to focus on the feeling. Focusing on it too deeply usually led to destruction of some kind.  

Star was methodically eating eggs when Monet sauntered into the kitchen. He kept his head down, listening to the sounds of her preparing some fancy salad combination, and then listened to her pull out the chair across from him.

“You’re not seriously going to make me ask what’s wrong, are you?” she asked after a moment. Star looked up.

“Where’s your partner in crime? You guys fighting again?”

Star frowned a bit. “Ric said he’d be down in a minute.”

Monet gave a theatrical eye roll then sighed deeply. “This again,” Monet scoffed. “He’ll snap out of it whenever he feels like it.” At that, she picked up her salad and stalked off.

Star watched her go, perplexed, then went to watch TV in the den. Julio usually came by to get him after a couple of hours, even if it was just to take him on some kind of errand, going to the grocery store to get milk or mailing out invoices for X-Factor. Sometimes they’d detour through a park, or Julio would take Star to one of the fancy coffee shops that Star loved so that he could complain about how overpriced his plain black coffee was. When Julio had work to do, Star would sit in the basement and work out or sort files.

Five o’ clock came and went with no sign of Julio, Star turned the TV off and went upstairs, a sick feeling mounting in his stomach.  

Julio was still in bed, he seemed to be playing some sort of game on his cell phone.

“You said you’d be down,” said Star, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of his voice. He walked around the bed and sat on the edge of it, back to Julio. He could feel himself pouting.

“Yeah dude, I’m sorry,” said Julio. Every word sounded like an effort, slow and quiet. “’M just not up for it today.”

“Are you unwell?” asked Star. “I could call Dr.--”

Julio reached out to grab his wrist.

“Hey, hey, I’m gonna be fine,” said Julio, too quickly. “I’m just really, really tired. I just need a couple of days. I promise” He brought Star’s hand to his lips, kissing it gently, then tugged at Star to get him to lay down.

Star pulled away from Julio’s hand, went to the other side of the room to put his boots and jacket away and then got in bed behind Julio, despite the early hour. Julio made a pleased sound, rubbing his thumb in circles along Star’s hand where it laid in front of Julio.

Star didn’t feel like everything was fine, Julio seemed so sad and so tired but Star didn’t have the words to voice this nameless sense of concern and it was clear Julio didn’t want to talk about it any further. He resolved to assess the situation in the morning.

 

* * *

 

One day turned into three days, and Julio seemed no more willing to get up and rejoin the team as he had that first morning. Each time Star asked, Julio promised that he was fine, that he just needed a bit more time. Star trained on his own, went on missions with the team when he had to, and mostly spent as much time as he could in the room with Julio, trying to ignore the stale smell that the room was taking on and the laundry that was piling up at the foot of the bed. Julio usually handled the laundry.

Nobody on the team seemed particularly concerned. Nobody came up to remind Julio about work that was piling up or about missed shifts at the reception desk. Everybody except Monet took turns bringing food up to the room, leaving plates of whatever they were having for dinner for Julio at the door.

On the fourth day, Star came back from training to find Julio gone, the sheets still rumpled as though he had recently been there, but the bed was cold. In a panic, he rushed down the stairs to the lobby, nearly running directly into Theresa on the way down.

“Hey! Star! Where’s the fire?” she asked, holding him away from her by his shoulders.

Star shrugged out of her grip, stepping back.

“Have you seen Rictor?” he asked.

“If he’s not in bed, that just means that he’s gone out drinking,” Theresa said. “That’s a good sign, it means he’ll probably be back in the next couple of days.”

Star didn’t think it sounded like a good sign, it sounded like his world collapsing in on him. Julio had a long history of up and leaving when he felt trapped, and--

Clearly Theresa could read the mounting panic in his eyes. “I promise this isn’t like the X-Force days, Star. He’s not going to go that far. He’ll be back tonight, shitfaced, no doubt, but he’ll be back. He does this sometimes, he has since--”

Whatever she was going to say, clearly she thought better of it.

“He’ll be back tonight, Star. Try and be patient,” she said. “Hey, I have a couple of hours, want to spar for a bit?”

Star nodded. He wasn’t happy, and his thoughts were still occupied with Julio but he trusted Theresa as much as it was possible for him to trust anybody. They’d been teammates, and Theresa had been there before Julio and after he had left. He followed Theresa back to the training room.

 

* * *

 

Sparring with Theresa helped, but Star’s anxiety was back the second he went up to their room to change and found the bed as empty as when he had left. Star changed quickly, intending to move to the living room so that he could better anticipate Julio’s return, but as he opened the door he was faced with Longshot, fist raised to knock. 

“Star!” said Longshot brightly. “Just who I was looking for! Have you eaten dinner yet?”  

 

* * *

 

Star wasn’t really sure why Longshot had brought them to this restaurant where the waitresses all seemed to be beautiful, scantily clad women, but Longshot seemed to be paying them no attention as he dutifully read the menu. Star set his menu down on the table without really looking at it. Longshot would order for him and it would be exactly what he wanted.

“Do you have money?” Star asked, slightly wary.

“Hm?” asked Longshot, not looking up from his menu.

“To pay for the meal,” Star clarified.

“Oh!” Longshot’s entire demeanor lit up, women at several tables around the restaurant turned to stare. “Yes! Pip handed me some as I was walking out the door!” From one of the pouches of his bandolier, Longshot produced four 20 dollar bills and set them proudly on the table.

“That’s….fortunate,” said Star. Longshot went back to contemplating the menu.

“You know,” said Longshot, after their food was delivered.

Star looked up from his studious contemplation of fried pickles and hot wings. His thoughts had been preoccupied with Julio, as they seemed to be constantly lately, thinking if he would be there when Star got home so he could try and speak to him again.  

“It’s fine to be confused about stuff, obviously.” Longshot gestured expansively to himself, as if to say  _I turned out fine, didn’t I?_ “But if I’ve learned one thing from being married, it’s that you have to ask.”

“You’re divorced,” said Star.

Longshot made a shooing motion in front of him. “Separated. And that’s only because of the mind wiping, not because I’m bad at relationships.”

“I’m not looking for sexual advice,” said Star.

“And as happy as I would be to provide it, that’s not what I’m talking about,” said Longshot, suddenly serious in the way that he sometimes was. “Monet held me up against a wall and said I’m not allowed to talk to either of you about this, but it seems like the right thing to do so I’m gonna go with it.”

Star blinked.

“When Alison and I got married she made me go to therapy with her,” Longshot continued, reaching across the table to take one of Star’s pickle chips. Star resisted the urge to bare his teeth at Longshot. “Which is where I learned that it’s apparently not normal to deal with incredible amounts of trauma throughout your entire life  _and_  apparently all the stuff that happened on Mojoworld explains all kinds of stuff we do that freaks people out. Like growling at people who take your food.”  

“This has all been explained to me,” said Star. “I am  _constantly_  reminded of what constitutes acceptable behavior. I am doing what I can.”

“Clearly,” said Longshot. “I’m just saying that with how fucked up you are as a person you’re maybe not in the best position to realize when other people are just as fucked up as you are. Even if you love them.”

“I can tell Rictor is in pain,” said Star. “If that’s what you’re getting at. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

Star’s fingers itched for his sword, for any kind of weapon. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with it just yet but he could feel the itching, crawling sensation under his skin that was usually followed quickly by Star destroying something in his immediate vicinity. He settled for clenching and unclenching his hands, feeling blunt nails dig into the soft skin there.

“It’s best if you don’t bleed on the table,” said Longshot.

Star only glared at Longshot and turned his attention to picking at his cuticles.

“I wasn’t even there for it,” said Longshot. “But I assume Rictor told you about when he tried to kill himself?”

Star shrugged. They had spoken of it, but only briefly. It was clear even to Star that Julio was only hoping to avoid the embarrassment of somebody else speaking to Star about it before he did.

Julio knew Star’s feelings on death and honor as well as Star did, but the expression of helpless pleading in his eyes had forestalled any thoughts Star had on the matter. It was over, it was done with, and Julio was still here, holding Star’s hands just a bit too tightly. Star had hugged Julio tightly and then retreated to the living room to watch TV, no longer sure of how to behave.

“Anyway,” Longshot continued, seemingly unconcerned with the reflection he’d snapped Star out of. “I could tell he was fucked up when I showed up and I can’t even remember my own name half the time. The guy was in a bad way, even by our standards,” at that Longshot gestured between himself and Star. “And he definitely seems like he’s been better since you’ve been back but maybe you should make sure that he’s actually doing better and not just pretending to be better for your sake.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Star.

“Seemed like the right thing to do,” said Longshot, smiling brilliantly. His eye glowed slightly as he reached for one of Star’s wings.

“Why are you really doing this?” asked Star.

“Watching you guys droop around the house was really messing with my happy-go-lucky affectation,” said Longshot. “I can’t have so many concentrated bad vibes around, it makes my hair limp.”

“You sound like you’re doing a Monet impression.”

“And that’s the best you’re going to get, now let’s go,” Longshot pushed his chair back, set the entire wad of cash on the table and turned to walk out.

“I’m certain that was more money than the meal cost,” said Star once they were out on the street. Longshot just shrugged, then put his hand on Star’s shoulder.

“Let’s go home, Star.”

 

* * *

 

Julio was asleep in bed, fully clothed on top of the covers and reeking of whiskey and beer when Star got home. Star went downstairs to get Advil and a water bottle, then came back and laid down next to Julio, not touching. He laid awake for a long while, just staring at the ceiling. Eventually, he slept.

He woke at six to the sound of Julio getting up to go to the bathroom, laying perfectly still until he felt Julio’s weight fall back onto the bed with a soft  _thump_. Star turned to face Julio who was laying on his stomach, face turned towards Star and eyes closed.

“How are you feeling?” asked Star.

“Like I need another drink,” replied Julio. At Star’s silence, he opened an eye. “Don’t be like that, Star. It was a joke. I just needed to not worry about stuff for a bit, I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

Julio closed his eye again, deflating into the mattress. “I’m sorry, Star. I really have been trying. It’s just sometimes everything gets to me.”

“Theresa said you used to do this often.”

“Terry doesn’t have any room to judge.”

Star reached out and took a piece of Julio’s hair between his fingers. Julio didn’t move, just kept his eyes closed and breathed softly into the pillow. His hair was was long, just a little too grown out to be fashionably shaggy, and decidedly greasy, although Star was trying not to think about that right now. Yet another thing Star hadn’t noticed until now.

“Do you feel like this all the time?” he asked.

Julio sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, Star.”

“Julio,” began Star, moving his hand from Julio’s hair to the side of his face. “Do you remember when I first arrived on Earth, and I would not eat unless you walked me to the kitchen and put food on my plate?”

“Yeah,” Julio laughed a little. “You passed out from hunger like, twice during training. Domino was so mad at Cable when she realized what was going on.”

“Do you remember when we would go out and you would keep the back of your hand pressed against mine the entire time?”

“Yeah,” said Julio. “I couldn’t decide if I was thrilled or humiliated but it was the only way you’d go out without your swords. What’re you getting at? Are we just doing a tour of stuff that freaked you out when you first got to Earth?”

“No,” Star felt like he was on a ledge, staring down into the unknown. “I was so scared back then. I didn’t know what to do or how to navigate the world, and the only thing that felt constant at that was you. I couldn’t see it then, but it’s so clear to me now, everything that you did to make me who I am today.”

“Star,” said Julio, “That was--I can’t--”

“I said before that I needed you to be my anchor, and still want it more badly than I’ve wanted anything. But you’ve been everything to me for so long,” said Star. “Please, let me do the same for you.”

And then Julio was crying. Big, heaving sobs that shook his entire body. “I’m so tired,” he choked out in between breaths, over and over again like some kind of confessional.

The Star that was would not have known what to do, would have seen the person he had relied on for so long breaking down in tears in front of him and run. Instead, he pulled Julio close. Let him cry into his shoulder until he felt the fabric there grow wet and slimy. Star whispered anything he could think of, murmuring words of affection, of devotion, and when those ran out he simply hummed, pitching it low enough that he could feel it through his chest.

Eventually the sobbing stopped and Julio pulled away, sniffing and wiping inelegantly at his nose. He looked up at Star and their eyes met. Julio grinned, and Star felt a smile spread over his face. 

Star leaned forwards until their foreheads were touching. He could smell last night’s whiskey on Julio’s breath and something, likely Julio’s phone, was digging into his hip. He could feel the sun on his back streaming in from the window behind him. And Julio’s warm, rough hands in his.

It wasn’t perfect, it was messy, and uncomfortable, and probably the start of something much bigger and more difficult. But it was his and it was beautiful.


End file.
